What Debbie Did
by vikinglover elle
Summary: Entry for Happily Never After Contest: What would have happened if Sookie hadn't been so quick on the draw when Debbie Pelt fired that first shot at her. Eric has amnesia but I've taken a few liberties with his general demeanor in this situation. OOC.


**Happily (N)ever After Contest  
Title: What Debbie Did  
Characters: Eric/Sookie  
Word Count: 3,135  
Pen Name: vikinglover elle  
Beta: Suaru_chan  
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. They belong to the lovely Charlaine Harris.  
Summary: What would have happened if Sookie hadn't been so quick on the draw when Debbie Pelt fired that first shot at her. Eric has amnesia but I've taken a few liberties with his general demeanor in this situation. OOC.**

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This night is just another in the long line of many. Not that I can remember any of my other nights, but this one is special. I am happy—full of life. Although, the irony of that statement is not lost on me. Vampires are the undead creatures of the supernatural world, but we live—in the unconventional sense. I breathe when necessary to expel air through my vocal cords. How else would I be able to speak? I have no heartbeat or other bodily functions as someone who is living would. Yet, I am here. Fueled and powered by some magical force.

Blood.

It is what keeps me going. It is what I need for sustenance. The crimson liquid which creates a burning fire within when being consumed. I crave it. I hunger for it. It is the one thing that quenches my thirst. The thirst which consumes me upon my awakening.

But not tonight. _This _blood which has been shed is precious. Its warmth no longer coats my fangs after a lovers embrace; no longer do I taste and savor it's deliciousness to my lover's delight; no longer does it do its job.

Blood. So much blood. Sookie's blood. The sweet scent of it fills my nostrils still and I yearn for the taste of it; the feel of its warmth coursing through my cold lifeless veins.

Lifeless… much as she is now. We are alike in nature. Both dead, yet I _am_. It's all I can think about…

I hear Debbie cock the gun. One shot is fired and I move in front of Sookie to take the bullet before it can reach her. As I fall to the floor, Sookie screams for me and the gun cocks again. After that, things seem to happen so quickly and in my mind anything that flashes by in a blur, seems an impossibility. Another shot is fired and everything goes silent. It's almost as if time itself has stopped and I know something is terribly wrong. There's no scream; just a soft thud as what I soon come to realize is Sookie's body, hits the floor. Debbie mutters a few words and stands aiming her gun at both of us lying motionless on the floor. The gaping wound in my chest aches and my blood spills to the floor, pooling around me. I know it is now or never so I lunge for Debbie, grabbing her ankle with enough force that I think I may have broken her leg. My fangs descend with an audible click and I drive them into the leg in my grasp. The hole in my chest closes with each deep pull I take. My strength becomes renewed and I feel the magic which gives me life flowing through me.

I'm overcome with so many emotions in that moment that I pull back and plunge my fangs into her calf, deeper—needing more, seeking more purchase. My teeth hit the bone with such force that the crunch can be heard over Debbie's high-pitched screams. She falls back into the waiting chair just behind her. I listen to her heart beat slowing as her life force weakens; her breathing becomes shallow; her gun drops to the floor with a dull clang. I will never forget the sound of the metal object hitting the floor for as long as I exist. I move in what Sookie would consider a blur and pull her from the floor, taking her into my arms. Only a moment has passed for me, but it has been too long for her.

There is blood everywhere. So much blood.

_Hunger. _

_Thirst. _

_Lust_.

Focus, Eric!

I panic. Her blue eyes look up at me, the life in them fading with each passing second. The hole in her chest is enormous. She clutches it in disbelief and looks like she wants to say something. Her mouth opens and all that escapes is more of her precious blood. The viscous substance stains the pristine white of her shirt a rust color. My nostrils flare as the sweet scent of it intoxicates me, but I fight back my primal urges. I need to fix this but I'm not sure how. I look at her and plea with her with a desperation I have never known until now.

"What do I do? Tell me what to do to fix you!"

She grips the sleeves of my shirt, holding so tightly that I feel her nails breaking the skin of my shoulders. It is of no matter to me, but she needs to retain her strength. Her lips move, but again, no words are uttered. There are bubbles, a gurgle, and then an ominous silence. Her heart flutters once, twice, then never again. Her final breath leaves her lips in a soft hiss as her head lolls to the side, resting in the crook of my bent arm.

**Helpless.**

**Distraught.**

**Enraged!**

I see red and swipe at my eyes to clear it away. Blood. More of my precious' blood? No. My blood. Bloody tears I've shed for the woman I've come to love over the past week. Love? Did I love her? Do I even know what it means to love? I know how I feel when I think about her. There is excitement at hearing her name, an overwhelming sensation courses through me when I see her lovely face, and my dead heart would beat if it could to show the pulse of my desire for her. Is that what love is? How it feels? How did it come to this? How did I not prevent her demise? Why could I not tell Debbie was here waiting for us? Most importantly, what do I do now? She is dead and I have lost her, forever. I clutch her closer to my chest, rocking us both in a moment that seems timeless, never ending. My vision fades as I fall into downtime, trying to make sense of the situation, trying to think.

I need to call Pam but I don't have her number. _Why can't I remember it? _Sookie would know what to do. She's good at figuring out situations like this. She would jump right into action and tell me what to do. Like when she found me running barefoot with no idea where I was going or who I was. I still don't know who I am and I wish I was the Eric she knew so that I could fix this.

This is when I despise myself, my weakness, this curse! If I was myself, this could have―no, this _would not_ have happened. I would have prevented it. My lover and I would be frolicking in her bed, not lying tangled in one another's dead limbs. The hole in my chest has nearly healed but it shall forever be scarred with the unseen cavern filled with my despair. I am lost without her and don't wish to be found. I clutch her closer to my chest in the hopes that this is all but a dream; a hoax of some sort; a symptom of the curse. She will breathe once again and look up at me with a beaming smile and yell, "Gotcha!" I laugh at my ridiculousness. The bitter sound piercing the silence around us.

She does not move. I hear nothing from her. No breath, no heartbeat, no blood racing through her veins. Blood. My blood. Everything goes back to the blood. It cleanses, it heals, it is the life force! Why hadn't I thought of it before? My blood would have healed her; my blood would have saved her—but I froze. I bite into my wrist, holding it over her open mouth, hoping there is still something I can do. She doesn't swallow. Of course, she cannot. I rub my hand over her throat, forcing the liquid down and wait. I am frozen in this moment never to come out of it again. I didn't know what to do because I am not myself. I blame the curse.

The curse which has left me in this incompetent state. If I were myself, I would have better protected my Sookie. Now I will no longer see the shining glow behind her crystal blue eyes. I'll never smell the sun on her long blonde hair or get to see it shifting through the breeze on any of the countless nights we would spend together.

I snap out of my sleeplike state when I hear a booming roar. Then I realize the roar is coming from me. In my grief, I've released a cry that can be heard clear across state lines. I gently pick Sookie up and carry her to the living room, laying her on the couch and covering her with a ratty old blanket. It is the only thing I can find and I don't want her to be cold. I stalk into the kitchen with one thing in mind.

_**Vengeance**__. _

I look at the body of the one who's slain my lover and I lose myself. She is eviscerated in mere seconds. I've added to the blood and carnage in the already gory kitchen. Covered in the tainted grime, I can think of nothing else but Sookie. She would be so upset to see her family home desecrated in such a manner. What I wouldn't give to hear her yelling about the mess I've made. I look back to her lying on the couch, never having moved from the position I laid her in.

Once I've finished cleaning up the mess, I go back to the living room, taking Sookie with me to the cubbyhole in her spare bedroom. There is nothing more I can do. But I can have these last few moments with her, before the pull of the coming dawn takes me away. I climb down into the cramped space, pulling her along with me. I lay her on top of me, gently cradling her in my arms. I hold her, cry for her, talk to her. I want this all to be a dream. In a last ditch effort, I try willing myself to wake, knowing it is useless.

I begin to feel the call to rest falling over me like the beginning of a snow storm. It is gentle at first—a tingle. As the minutes tick by, the sensation increases and my fight to hold onto consciousness is lost. As my eyes close for the day, I take one last look at my lover, my love, my Sookie.

()()()()

My eyes flutter as I prepared to wake for the evening. I sense that I am not alone. The weight bearing down on my body is not that heavy, but I know it isn't my own. I inhale and smell… Sookie Stackhouse. How odd? My fingers stretch, sliding over fabric. My arms squeeze, feeling the softness of a body? My eyes fly open as I search out my surroundings. In the dark I can see blonde hair, the same color as mine. I stretch my arm above my head and a latch is released. I exert a little energy, pushing open what appears to be a hatch in the floor. I realize the space I'm in is definitely not my own, and is entirely too small for myself and another.

I lift her body off me, placing it out in the open space before crawling out of the hole. Looking over the creature lying on the floor in front of me, an overwhelming ache fills my chest, crippling me. I'm not sure why, but I know something isn't right. Sookie Stackhouse lays before me, dead. _Lifeless_. Did she allow me to turn her? She is covered in what appears to be my blood as well as her own. I look down at my clothes to discover they are also soiled with blood and tissue. Something is very off and I look into the room in which the cubby hole is located. The room smells of Sookie. I must be in her home. I run out into the hall and find that I am indeed in her farmhouse in Bon Temps. I search out a phone to call Pam. She will know what's going on.

"Pamela. Why am I at Sookie Stackhouse's home and what's happened to her? She's dead."

There is silence on the other end of the line. I know she has heard me so there must be something else wrong.

"She's… dead? How? She was fine when you two left us last evening."

"Where are you now?" I ask.

"On my way there. I assume you have your memories back? I've killed the witch, Hallow. Her curse has been lifted as of this night."

"Drive faster. I want you here now. I don't like this situation."

She hangs up without saying another word. I drop the receiver and walk into the kitchen. Following my nose, I smell a slight hint of Were in the room, and blood. Mine and Sookie's. I stand in the middle of the room for an immeasurable amount of time. There is a knock at the door and I move to it, almost without thinking.

"Pam. You should be allowed entry as Sookie has… expired."

"Eric, I don't understand. Do you remember nothing of last night?"

"Yes. I was at Fangtasia, changing my clothes when we were talking and then I wake up here. Is that not correct?"

She shakes her head. "You've been here for at least a week. That happened on New Year's Eve. The witch that was sent to Fangtasia demanding money or your body, she was killed and you were cursed. You disappeared from your office and apparently were running down the road leading here. Sookie took you in and cared for you. She kept you safe."

"And now she's dead because of me?"

"I don't know. We took out the witches' coven last night. I worked Hallow over until she gave up how to break the spell she cast and here we are. This is very perplexing."

"I need to know what's happened. I don't think I drained her. There are no bite marks on her neck as far as I know. But I'm not that hungry. I have a feeling I wouldn't have drained her. I need to know what's happened, Pam. I need to know."

She looks at me with pity. I've never seen that look on my child's face before and I don't ever want to see it again. I go back into the room where Sookie remains still on the floor. I stroke her hair away from her face, desperate to look into her once full of life blue eyes. I sigh running my hands through my hair. I pull down the collar of Sookie's white shirt, turning her head from side to side. Nothing. No fang marks. I'm relieved but it only lasts for a minute.

I feel Pam's hand on my shoulder and look up into her eyes. "I'll take care of Sookie. You need to take these clothes off and go put some clean ones on. We'll go from there."

I nod, not knowing what more there is to do, and go in search of clothes. I wander through a few rooms and happen upon a pair of my jeans (the jeans I remember wearing the night I lost my memory) and pull them on. I inhale a deep breath, taking in my surroundings and the smell of Sookie in the room. I smell… smoke. I rush into the living room where I catch Pam leaving the bedroom where Sookie's body remains.

"What's going on? Why do I smell smoke?"

"I told you I would take care of it."

"So you set the room on fire? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Yes. Do you think it would be wise to leave things as they are? You don't know what happened. No one does. We set a fire, the house burns down, it looks like an accident."

"Sometimes, Pamela! We could have buried her. She doesn't deserve to be burned."

"I did that. I'm just cleaning up the rest of this mess. There's the smell of blood all over this place. Too many scents in the air. All we'd need is Alcide showing up here and sniffing out one of his kind spilled blood here. You're not thinking straight, Eric. Let me help you."

"Fine. Let's get out of here before the police show up. You will take me to her grave first."

She nods and we speed out the door to the cemetery across from the house. I fall to my knees when we reach the mound of dirt which now houses Sookie's body. The ache in my chest returns and I don't know what it means. I look to Pam with a question in my eye, and she shakes her head. I can only hope that there was some possibility I could have made an effort to turn her. We wouldn't know for two nights if that was the case. But I think I know the answer already.

Upon our return to Fangtasia, we talk things through. No one knew I was there except for Pam and Sookie's brother Jason. Apparently, he has gone missing and hasn't been found yet. It would seem all loose ends have been tied up and I have nothing to do but wait. But I know who would have answers. Sookie.

I return to Sookie's grave on the third night and sit, waiting. The wind howls around me, the moonlight shining down almost like a spotlight; all else sits still, waiting with me. I feel panicked, restless, useless. It's the not knowing what happened, how this happened, why I didn't prevent it. There is nothing I can do to fix this situation and the lack of control angers me. I kneel against the cool dirt, eyes never leaving the mound of earth which houses my… what was she to me? My employee, my friend, my… lover? _That_ I feel I would know. _That_ I feel I _should_ know. Alas, I don't remember the week spent with her. But there is something in the back of my mind which tells me something changed between us. Did she finally yield to me? Did she finally accept that I am the better choice for her?

This is killing me.

A branch breaks from a tree in the distance and my head snaps around to be sure there's no one there. I turn my attention back to the ground, still waiting.

She never breaks through the ground. I ground myself, concentrating as hard as I can, yet I cannot feel the call of my blood within her.

She is gone.


End file.
